The Red Shoes
by x-forbiddenrose-x
Summary: Based off Hans Christian Andersen's fairytale. Erik gives Christine a pair of beautiful red dancing shoes, but when she disobeys him the shoes 'work' for her. Dark.


**Disclaimer: I do not own POTO or The Red Shoes.**

A/N: I know that this isn't following the book exactly, but just bear with it.

"Christine, I have something for you," Erik exclaimed as he happily burst into the Louis-Philippe room. Christine lay crumpled on the floor, her body convulsing with sobs. "Come, don't cry so, my dear. See what I have brought for you?" Erik placed a box in front of her. Lifting her head, Christine eyed him warily. "Open it up. I guarantee it will lift your spirits." Cautiously, she lifted the lid. Inside the box was a pair of beautiful, red dancing shoes. Fearing to break them, Christine carefully picked them up and ran her fingers over the smooth red silk.

"Erik, are these really for me?" she asked.

He laughed. "Of course they are, Christine. Would I ever put something in front of you that you couldn't have?" Christine slid off her shoes and replaced them with the scarlet slippers. She leaned back and examined her feet.

"Thank you, Erik! Thank you!"

"You're welcome." Erik looked at Christine's watch, which lay on the bedside table. "It is nearly ten-thirty, Christine. You best prepare yourself for the Bal Masque tonight." With that, he left her. Christine put on the elaborate ebony costume that Erik had given her to wear that night. She secured the silk mask on her head, and went out to the drawing room to meet Erik, forgetting that she still wore the red shoes.

Christine was met with quite a surprise when she exited the Louis-Philippe room. In the center of the room stood Erik, robed entirely in crimson, and resting upon his shoulders was a death's head.

"My costume surprises you, Christine," he observed with a dark sort of amusement. "Why? It is hardly a costume, Christine. You should know that." Christine was spared the need to respond to his comment for he announced that they best be leaving lest they miss the party.

XXX

Together, Erik and Christine stood at the top of the Foyer of the Ballet's grand staircase, looking over at the merry scene below them. Erik leaned over and whispered in her ear, "I will meet you in your dressing room at one." He added dryly, "May your God help you if you're not there." Christine numbly nodded her head and when she turned, Erik had gone.

Christine ran into the maze of couples dancing, determined to get to the room where she had promised to meet Raoul. Accidentally, she bumped into a man, ridiculously dressed in a gaudy white guise.

"Christine?" he asked in a whisper. Beneath the mask, Christine could see Raoul's cerulean eyes shining brilliantly through. She grabbed his hand and hurried him to the crush room. "Christine, what's wrong?" Raoul asked. Christine turned around and put her finger to her lips, motioning for him to be silent.

From ahead of them stood a group of people murmuring, "Red Death…" They parted slightly, revealing Erik in his novel domino. Christine picked up her pace as she saw his piercing yellow eyes move first from her, to Raoul, and then back to her. He started moving out of the crowd towards them.

"Hurry!" she hissed to Raoul. Christine didn't slow her pace until they were safely concealed in a whirl of dancers.

"Christine, what's wrong?" Raoul asked again. "You are acting so odd tonight."

"Raoul…" Christine began. The band struck up a new dance.

Raoul offered, "Why don't we dance? Surely that will make you feel better." Before Christine could reply, Raoul had her in a dance hold and they were waltzing. Christine felt wonderful in Raoul's arms, like the whole scene was something out of a fairy tale. They performed dance after dance together and time seemed to stop. Suddenly, the clock at the other end of the hall chimed one o'clock.

"I will meet you in your dressing room at one. May your God help you if you're not there." 

"Erik!" Christine cried, jerking out of Raoul's arms. "I have to go, Raoul."

"Christine!" Raoul cried, as Christine disappeared into the crowd.

Erik's threat kept replaying in Christine's head as she hurried down the corridors to her secluded dressing room. Knowing all too well how his temper was something not to be meddled with, Christine could hardly imagine what sort of punishment he'd devise for her.

Finally, Christine reached her dressing room. The minute the door slammed shut, Erik's voice boomed, "Where have you been?"

Christine pleaded, "I'm sorry, Erik." She attempted to think up an excuse. "I got lost-"

"You? Lost in the Opera Garnier? I thought that you could come up with a better excuse than that, Christine, after lying to me every day of the past fortnight."

"Erik…"

"It's useless lying to me, Christine! You don't know how much your little rendezvous with le Vicomte de Chagny has hurt me, but there are many things you don't know. For instance, you don't know too much about those little red shoes on your feet…"

"Erik, you're scaring me!"

"Those exquisite slippers belonged to a gypsy girl. She was wicked, vain girl and an angel bewitched her favorite pair of shoes. The shoes made her dance without end. The gypsy girl couldn't remove them, and she danced to her death!" His voice became frighteningly happy. "And now, Christine, the shoes will work for you. See, Christine, you shall dance to your death and then your poor Erik shall join you in eternity!"

"Don't play games with me, Erik!"

"You don't believe me? Dance, shoes, dance!" Suddenly, Christine's legs began to move against her will. "Remember your Erik, Christine. Once you have danced your last, he will join you!"

Fin 

A/N: Please R&R!


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